Chapter Twenty Eight An Opera in Three Acts But with Five Parts
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| or, if the mother’s father would not, then that man would automatically suffer The Pillar’s consequential punishment of: not seeing the grandsons the next, upcoming weekend. AmTaham was to swear to Dr. Edinsmaier right there on the telephone that in no way, shape or form would Mirzah, Zane or Jesse have, while in the company of their mama’s parents, any contact whatsoever with their mom, Legion. “… ya’ know, your daughter! Got that?!” was pretty much the gist of King Herod’s dictum this particular time. AmTaham refused to betray me or to sell me down the river to his ex – son – in – law just so’s the Truemaier Boys’ granddaddy could get a glimpsing of or a weekend visit with his three, most favored grandchildren.
Hallowed Herry had thought it a no – brainer for AmTaham as, obviously, the usually dithering Mehitable also had; she believed AmTaham would have no trouble in blindly obeying the Boys’ Patriarch in order to just be ‘allowed’ that Emperor’s permission to see Jesse, Zane and Mirzah. “Sure, noooo problem, Herry, if that’s what you want. If that’s what you say, Herry, then that’s what we’ll do,” Mehitable had sold me out just as slickly and as swiftly as she could possibly get the declaration out of her mouth in order to herself be in her grandsons’ lives even if I, their ma, could not be. And, most importantly, even if she were to use me to bargain with and to nefariously negotiate –– aprovechar – style –– even if she were to betray the trust of me, her own second daughter, in order to supplant me with herself into Zane’s, Jesse’s and Mirzah’s lives, then she would most assuredly agree to do that, too. She did not hesitate one itty – bitty bit. She did it, and she did it right off. Boot me the fuck out. Put herself, along with Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive, in. In –– right where I belonged. No wonder that Dr. Phyllis Chesler devoted an entire section in her 1986 tome, Mothers On Trial: The Battle for Children and Custody over to the children’s maternal grandmother and to what perfidious lengths that specific, so often male – identified woman will go in order to cut herself straightaway into self – centered deals with her ex – son – in – law so as to become “the mother” –– for her own child’s children –– instead of the children’s own mama –– remaining –– the mother to them that she, indeed, already … is.
So Jesse’s angst in the front seat this evening wasn’t over AmTaham’s attitude; that was for certain. Yet anxious we both were. With no power and no money, I had very little to offer the Truemaier Boys as therapy for their heartbreak and sorrow. Other mothers told me of their teenage sons’ vomiting and constantly chugging bottlefuls of Maalox or Mylanta one day and slurping down Pepto – Bismol smoothies to stop the diarrheal squirts the next. I asked the Boys to please turn it out of themselves, whatever it is that is the life – force killer, the soul – murderer, to turn that poisonous toxin outwardly and away from their innards. The last thing they needed and the last thing I wanted were spirits slogging through any more pollution than what pornography and its aftermath had already defiled, dishonored and violated their, and my, visions and futures. Nothing great nor good can come from more fuck brewing within the fight – or – flight hormones’ goo of my Boys’ brains and bellies and bones and life – sustaining or – uplifting joy – juices. * * * * To lose parental rights is a truly, truly huge deal, not just constitutionally, and next to personal and individual freedom, that is, freedom to just walk around pretty much however it is that I want to, it is the most massive of human rights lost –– in my opinion. The revocation of such rights is defined by worldwide society in general by only a very few conditions when those liberties are canceled from those of us who are the DEhuman beings. When women lose all legal rights to their own babies, society states that in so narrow terms. Ones that can only be happening –– surely –– because of such certain, overwhelmingly heinous offenses. Specifically those involving mama’s abusing illicit drugs or imbibing alcohol or her committing crimes of prostitution and other whoring matters including mom’s participation in any way with pornography. Or … she must be crazy. Certifiably so, I should hope and one would think. A true and bizarro whacko. Or, lastly, … she is both criminal and certifiable. But to lose the kids … over to the imprisoning whimsy and entire choice – making of one’s ex – husband? Who the fuck ever heard of that?! Except … with regard to so – disposed terrorists and all Americans of the 16th, 17th, 18th and 19th Centuries. And all of the humans and DEhumans … Worldwide … before that. And to lose the children … over to the ex – husband’s complete control –– yet to actually be neither of those two conditions, crazy or criminal? Who the fuck ever did that?! Well, exponentially and rampantly so the family law courts do. ‘The Courts’– still so only Male, everywhere including everywhere in America and anywhere else that some type of a male supreme god worship or patriarchal religion exists and that the Second Wave of Feminism has finally entered, flourished and thrived – they, these mother – fuckers, do this. Only Grace Portia knew to hold daJudge and ‘the Court’ suspect, American though these be. Only she did. In addition to Dr. Herod Edinsmaier –– and his employee, of course, Mr. Shindy Scheisser. I still did not. And did not truly believe Grace’s repeated warnings to me. I trusted. Stupidly I the Idiot strode into ‘the Court’ ’s rooms every fucking single time and trusted. Raised that right hand of mine, affirmed all over the goddamn testimonial landscape, I did. And fuckingly told the literally mother – fucking Truth –– as if it actually mattered to do so, I did. “If you are Not Males contemplating growing a child or separating yourselves physically, and in any or all other respects, from men who have donated spermatozoa which have fertilized your ova and developed subsequently the boy and DEhuman children whom you alone have, also, already chosen to grow, beware. Be ever so aware of your mighty fine chances at becoming the very next mothers fucked. If that haploid sperm – cell exalter i) has any semblance of clout at all in the community and ii) presses for the children, if he actually makes nice to ‘the Court’ like he truly wants the custody of the kids [“ … Mind you, Jury, I purposefully did not state ‘wants … the work … of the custody of the children,’ did I?”], if he actually makes nice to ‘the Court’ … then, DEhumans, know this and know it very, very well: with the tenor of ‘the Court’ utterly against anything that smacks the slightest of Not Males’ independence, such as feminist thinkings or trappings, plus anything that strikes as the possibility of … your defiance … against the male gods of power and control, then you, Mama, … you are fucked. You are mother – fucked.” Jesse was the one this particular Friday evening, 25 October 1991. Jesse was the child whom I found at a soccer practice which was running a bit later than usual. DeAndré and Jesse and I all walked together from the field to the side street one block from the main thoroughfare intersecting with 69th before Jesse bid DeAndré goodbye, and the two of us escaped alone to the front seat of the surreptitiously parked station wagon. No small thing our Ol’ Black Beater wagon, but it had to be easier for me to cover its tracks, I am thinking, than for Humvee Herry to conceal those of the Edinsmaiers’ Chevrolet! Somber now, Jesse said little, sometimes a not uncommon condition for him. But I, too, did not feel like speaking; both of us were just antsy as hell though. There in the autumnal darkness my one hearing ear, ever poised in Jesse’s verbal direction, heard two of the saddest sentences it ever has, “If I’m taken away to live in another state, I know I won’t ever be a kid again in Iowa, Mom. I won’t ever again come back to Iowa as a child; I just know it.” These Jesse, facing straight ahead of himself to the east from the car’s passenger side, articulated to the night air hanging in front of the blackened windshield. He did not look at me, he did not shake his head, he did not smile; Jesse was as deadpan as always my friend, Dr. Lionel Portia, is. But with Lionel I never, ever am worried about strictured breathing, gastrointestinal turmoil, brain death –– and heartbreak. I wanted to cry, and I am thinking that Jesse would have –– had there been any more time he could have spent with me; but the practice had run over and Sheriff McLive’d be on her appointed – rounds’ lookout for him, we thought. “O Jesse. O my,” I said out loud and my head did shake and my right hand covered my lips. Inside my heart broke, too, and it said just to my Self alone, “My, my … my, my, my. Whatever made you think of this, Jesse? What the hell is going on inside that house which Herry Edinsmaier chooses to say is your ‘home’?” Jesse and I had had no clue of Liar Herry’s charming ‘promise’ to Custody – Evaluator Carrie Canard and to Judge Sol Wacotler Seizor ‘to keep all three of the Truemaier Boys in schools in Ames’ or expanded now to include Urbandale … but, at least, still in Iowa –– and close by me. We had had, in always the blathering and mother – fucking drivel of Ms. Fannie Issicran McLive, “no idea” of this written statement of the pillared Good Doctor –––– filed and tucked far off away in some court’s catacombs somewhere because it certainly was not tucked away inside the frontal lobes of Dr. Herod Edinsmaier’s, Ms. Fannie McLive’s, Ms. Canard’s or daJudge’s brains anywhere … accessible. Nor from what I could tell at this point the minds of the Juggern Aut Misein Edinsmaier patriarch or Herry’s famous sister, Ohioan Dr. Mi Sprision O’Revinnoco, a pediatric oncologist and, therefore, a pediatrician and, therefore too and most importantly, a mandatory reporter. Not only a parent, she, but also a mandatory reporter! One required to report abuse … … abusive crimes! But apparently this pediatrician needed to report to ‘the authorities’ or to intervene on the behalves of children … only when the kinds of abuses fit her specific definitions thereof And, of course, none of ‘those’ about which Her Special – Brother, Pillared – Male Daddee – Herry, was … perping. Just those which were male – identified … judicially … as abuse –––– and none of those, particularly to boy children, which are morally wrong because they are mightily woman – loathing! None of that of which Sister Mi Sprision not only knew but had actually herself witnessed occurring. On multiple occasions this parent, this mother, this mandatory reporter, this scientist, and obviously this entirely male – identified female, had seen it all –– and not only had reported nothing of it to official authorities, but she had reported in a formally authoritarian, pediatrician – like manner nothing amiss to her spouse, let alone to her sibling, the (also) Good Doctor Edinsmaier … nor, for sure, to his Next Cunt in the Stash, all four of them just a – genuflectin’ as fast as their eight, fat 40 – something kneecaps would take them on down! Devout christians now allegedly, the lot of ‘em –– or, at least, demonstratively. And she, Dr. Mi Sprision O’Revinnoco, one of the scriptures’ – spoutingest females of Herry’s gazillion sisters and brothers … despite her scientific brain which certainly knew differently, wouldn’t even help me, another DEhuman with a brain, one acknowledging and operating on … … reason! I have found Dr. O’Revinnoco’s inertia unconscionable. I have never forgotten it. I asked her once for her help both as a parent and as a medical doctor and, thusly, a mandatory reporter and allegedly a recognizer of abuse of the country’s littlest human beings. I needed another Edinsmaier female –– and preferably her because Mi Sprision, as I have explained … before, was the only one who was also a parent –– to help me in standing up for something which was the Right Thing to Do for small Boys’ well – being. To help me stand up firmly against the workings of Herry, Juggern and two of Herry’s brothers long ago. The issues involved both boating and life – jacket safety and the wisdom of the babes’ not at all motorcycle – riding back then. Dr. Mi Sprision O’Revinnoco, the only one of Dr. Edinsmaier’s five female siblings who has, of their own choosing, ever borne or by, any other means, put into their lives any small children on a regular basis at all. At a family gathering my asking occurred and only the one time –– long before the deepening shit began hitting that family’s fan. Only to see Mi Sprision take the turn then that she later would continue to also take with me again when ‘the Court’ at this latter time entered the Truemaier Boys’ picture: the turn that was her very blind – eye, I – so – cannot – go – up – against – the – ruling – Edinsmaier – men one. Dr. Mi Sprision O’Revinnoco displayed only scorn and contempt for mothering, for sure, and truly too for the legitimacy that mandatory reporting needs to have in order for its command to be effective in keeping safe, well and healthy the nation’s and the world’s children. Her choice with regard to obeying the mandate, the moral thing to do? The Right Thing to Do? For that, the Right Thing to Do she flaunted only disdain and disrespect –– when she did not come to the aid of these imprisoned Truemaier Boys. She and her spouse, along with all other of Brother Pillar’s siblings, sightlessly took up their programmed – into – silence roles: nothing more than the Emperor’s double – dealing slacker – lackeys in King Edinsmaier’s Empire. I hardly expected any of The Edinsmaier Patriarchs’ other four daughters or sisters to do one thing to help me. As a matter of fact, I truly did not believe that any other of that particular fuckly religious clan, female or male, would lift a kindly finger. I knew them all, had even once asked by telephone a brother close in age to Herry for help. Nothing from him but sarcasm, ridicule, derision, mockery and laughter, outright guffawing, back to me, the outsider DEhuman. Especially … about things or matters of sexual abuse or people sexually addicted. Quite in androcentric line with how all of the pranging, prongless men of the roman catholic hierarchy have handled their ‘dealings’ today! Were I to have, instead, been seeking mother – fucking, roman catholic or christian, genuflecting, cross – forming, verse – spewing, dirty little secretly pornography – consuming hypocrites, none of them including the male – identified DEhuman ones as is Dr. Mi Sprision O’Revinnoco, supposedly brilliant and supposedly a “protecting” mandatory reporter of known crimes against children, … none of them would have disappointed me in that regard! Textbook cases all of them, “Hear no evil, see no evil, speak not one damn word to help the Crazy Bitch out! I’ma jus’ keepin’ m’mother – fuckin’ mouth here … shut the fuck up!” The King’s five other brothers themselves –– each a classic case of either liberal, progressive, Stoltenberg’s men – of – conscience, leftist, peace – now mentality or of religious, rightist, family – values’ venom –– are, every last one of them, DEhuman oppressors. I do not recall one holiday collection or family outing where any of the males did anything in Detanimod’s kitchen ––except on a truly sporadic occasion. And, most certainly, although as well as eating gargantuan quantities these guys most regularly shit out same!, never, ever did a one of the men scour Detanimod’s … and Juggern’s … two toilet bowls. Fifteen or 20 minutes on one food – preparation project, perhaps, –– and most likely … that … of their very own beverages such as whacking open a couple of beer cans or possibly adding ice cubes and water to even just one container of frozen lemonade concentrate! Then? Then the Edinsmaier men went missing outta the kitchen –– and specifically and quite often –– could be found right next door inside the front room at where each planted himself in front of a sports program or the latest game on TV. Or else … he ran the bases outside and just slung back those beers and ladled – for – himself – alone lemonades on the porch – patio’s concrete jawing there with another. Never did these men –– at the huge labors which their Edinsmaier family occasions entailed –– work. At the successes of a family get – together. Although … quite the passel of persons this getting – together always, always, always meant for an Edinsmaier affair. No wonder Detanimod Edinsmaier died young. She had had to. In order to receive for herself that blesséd peace which every man in her life coveted for himself but which he, not even in his adulthood as a regular and daily routine, would not give back to his mother. Let alone, to his own spouse and her own daughters. Takers. Aprovechar – Takers. All five Edinsmaier men mawwied –– and married young enough to be, themselves, active in the raising up of the little, little kiddos. Unlike the five Edinsmaier women, all five Edinsmaier men’s wives did choose to grow and to bear biological children! Might’ve had, undoubtedly, something to do with the Edinsmaier men choosing … for them, their wives ... choosing for them to grow and to bear him children, however. Two Edinsmaier men’s wives each grew and bore three daughters a piece. One of Herry’s brothers’ wives grew and bore three children, two of them DEhuman as well. A fourth brother’s wife had two children, both DEhuman. But a fifth brother’s wife had four humans … that is, this woman had managed to grow and to bear for her husband, that most luckiest of Edinsmaier patriarchs, all and only four ... boy babies. So only Herod, because of my three Truemaier Boys, and one other brother out of all of the six Edinsmaier men whom Detanimod grew and bore donated haploid cell spermatozoa that consistently and exclusively resulted in more human beings. Only two products of Detanimod Edinsmaier’s 14 gestations did that –– in the 20 consecutive years’ time, the mid 1930s (when it was still, thanks to Anthony Comstock’s male – legislating ilk … get this! = most illegal and punishable! a crime! to USPS – mail birth control … information!) through to the mid 1950s, when Juggern Aut Misein Edinsmaier so regularly and routinely kept poking and impregnating her and forcing then the nonstop operation of the machining container that was for The Patriarch of Patriarchs … Detanimod’s baby – producing uterus. The rest of Juggern Aut’s third – generation progeny were almost exclusively DEhumans. And Herod Edinsmaier’s brothers not only knew it, of course, but they also treated their female children then, and do so today, as they themselves sooo expect … not … to be. As the DEhumans whom they, the daughters most certainly are. The Edinsmaier brothers who were fathers also started this treatment when the DEhumans of theirs were very tiny. By these men demonstrating to the daughters their very own basic behaviors in their very own mother’s (and Juggern’s, too, of course) kitchen, behaviors that quite centered around the most basic of human being needs. That is, around the gathering in of foodstuffs, its subsequent preparation and then finally the cleaning up of the dirtied dishes. The DEhumans, and only the DEhumans, wait upon the humans, the men’s daughters learned. Soft, deferent and … above all, servile, these many, descendent, Edinsmaier – daughtering DEhumans, also learned. Mehitable True liked them. Of course. * * * * To lose parental rights means specific things all right to a society that never really and truly has to deal with it, however. And that same society does not, at any cost, want the DEhuman to have to either. It does not want to help her deal; it just wants her to exactly do the opposite –– and to not deal with it at all . “And while you’re not dealing with it at all, then do that not – dealing with it at all somefuckingwhere else, by the way, Broad. And then for goodness’ sakes, Bitch, get the fuck over it! And right now, Woman. And stop the fuck talking about it. We all don’t wanna hear about it! JGeeesh, ya’ Stupid – Ass Heifer! Shut the fuck up about it all already, ya’ hear?! Got that, Witch?!” Ask Rachel or ask me. This? This is what we hear either tacitly or right out loud to our very faces every day –– every single, damned day. Rachel didn’t even lose complete and total parental rights to her now seven – year – old whom she – alone – grew out of the one, lone spermatozoon from husband number 1 and, at last, bore … and yet she |